


Spoil of War

by cravingformore



Series: Pre&Post The Musketeers: Lucien Grimaud [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: After I see series 3 to the end I'll probably make a sequel, F/M, I open at the close, It depends on the ending of series 3, Lucien gets romance, The ending just happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 12:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cravingformore/pseuds/cravingformore
Summary: Lucien Grimaud is a man raised by the spoils of war. He learned to fight for what's his in those twisted battlefields, for the fight for war wasn't the only thing that made bodies. On the same battlefields a different war was fought - the war for survival.He met her by chance, like they do. For some reason, neither wanted to let go.Sometimes it would be necessary.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't nearly enough stories of Lucien! I haven't even watched the whole third season yet but I need more Lucien!
> 
> So I wrote this.
> 
> Unbeta'd, unedited, English not my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes!

He was a spoil of war. His father an unknown soldier and mother a used-to-be innocent girl, he knew what was a hard life. He had lived through everything you'd imagine to be the worst. In order to survive the God-forsaken world he lived in, he had to learn to survive - not by just going into the battlefields to steal from the corpses what he could, but to fight as well for what he had found.

He remembers his first kill. He had barely been over ten years of age when a bigger boy, with more meat on his body than Lucien ever had to eat, had demanded for the rings Lucien had taken from a corpse (or few). Lucien did not want to give them, he had found them, he had the right for them, so he fought back, but in vain. The older boy just pushed him, he fell on a corpse, and took everything Lucien had on him and started to leave.

Lucien felt hatred in his veins. He had never felt it this strongly - sure, he had been angry before, but this - this was closer to bloodlust. He wanted to kill the boy. He wanted to see what colour his blood would be. 

Without thinking, he pulled out the corpse's musket and pointed it at the back of the big boy. He pulled the trigger.

When he got back his and the other boy's things he felt a pang of guilt. He didn't have to kill the boy. There were lots of corpses on the field, he could've just found more loot. 

There he was - the boy that was a living spoil of war, sitting on the ground in front of a boy he had killed, both of their possessions in his hands - for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt his cheeks wet.

It was also the first and last time he remembers crying. 

After the first time killing became easier and he learned not to give mercy. On the field, after a war battle, there would always be fighting to death among the common folk who needed money.

Lucien still, if he happens to be around some, loots battlefields.

She wasn't a spoil of war. Her both parents were still alive - for now - when they first met. They had stable income, although they certainly were not rich.

She had been seventeen when they first met, and he twenty. He had stumbled upon her in a forest - literally. She had been on her way from the market back home and he had been running from someone or something (he knew which battles to pick), when he came across a road and on the road a young woman - but he did not have enough time to dodge so he ran into her and with a yelp from her he found himself on top of a woman for the first time in his life. They were lying on the road and he had barely enough time to process this when he felt a kick in a place he would rather have kept kick-less. 

With a groan he rolled off her and she got up. 

She stood tall. Her height wasn't much, but it wasn't short either, so when she "stood tall" she stood as tall as she could. Her dress was a bit dusty now but she still looked like the nicest-dressing woman he had ever seen - doesn't mean he liked it, though. It meant she had things better than he did.

She opened her mouth to demand answers but closed it when she heard yelling heading her way. Lucien groaned again and tried to roll away (how hard could a woman kick? He swore he would still be able to feel it a year from now), but was interrupted when the girl rolled him into a bush herself - downhill, for she wasn't invincible.

His pursuers appeared on the road and Lucien wisely stayed quiet. They approached the girl who was now standing with a posture fitting a queen in the middle of the road looking like she was bored. 

Maybe she was. Maybe this happened to her every day.

The pursuers questioned her if she had seen a man in his twenties running past at some point. 

Her voice did not lessen her bored façade. It made her sound even more bored than what she looked. "Maybe. Someone did run past here a while ago. Didn't catch what he looked like, though. Went that way," she finished, pointing into the direction he had first tried going to. 

The men thanked her and went in the direction.

She waited until they were out of sight until walked back to where he was in the bush. She offered him a hand which he took.

"Sorry about that."

Her voice held none of the boredom now, nor did her face. She looked slightly irritated. Her voice was kind, however. 

With one pull he was up and towered over her before taking a quick step back. 

"Thank you, mademoiselle, for giving me assistance." He clumsily tried bowing. 

"I would like to know what kind of man did I just save."

He looked up and now her face showed curiousity. She looked extremely interested in what he would have to say, and Lucien had to remind himself that nobody really cares what he would say.

"A nobody, mademoiselle. A poor man with no past and a black future. Those men tried to make me give them what is mine, and I was not willing to give it to them. That is all." Lucien bowed again, then turned to leave.

The girl followed. 

"I've never met a nobody before." Her voice was filled with interest.

He turned around to face her. "Would you like to take a good, long look like I was some sort of domestic animal made to be gawked at?"

The girl stopped walking and now looked apologetic. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry. I should not say things like that," she said, looking down.

Now Lucien noticed that he could see her every emotion from her face and voice and found himself thinking it fascinating. "Well, I think we may call ourselves even now."

Her face lit up. "Will you meet me again?" she asked when he turned to leave again.

He stopped again. "Why would you want to meet someone like me again?" he inquired stepping closer.

She didn't back down, instead she looked down, but for a second he saw sadness. "I don't have a lot of friends."

Lucien didn't know what had come to him, but for some reason he found himself wanting to see this magnificent creature again.

He did not say anything, however, and turned to leave yet again. This time she did not call to him again nor did he stop.

But still he came back weeks later. Following the road she had met her on he found her house. There it was - a house and some stables. In the stables a few horses. He made his way to the stables as stealthily as he could and managed to get there before anyone saw. He did not know why he expected to find there, but he certainly did not expect the young woman to be there all alone, wearing men's pants and a linen shirt.

"Bonjour."

Her head whipped around and she saw him. If she first shone confusion now she was lit up in happiness.

Lucien's stomach made a small flip at the sight. No one had looked so happy to see him before, and he came to the conclusion that he liked it. 

Years passed and they came to know more about each other. At times Lucien would be away for months, but she - who Lucien now knew to be called Renée - always waited for him to come back. He always did.

Two years after they first met Lucien had been gone for a long time - nearly a year. Renée had missed him terribly and nearly was wedded to a fairly well-found man, until he had been killed horribly (God rest his soul) and Lucien returned. Renée would suspect Lucien be behind the killing if she didn't remember a promise of his; that he would never kill someone she knew unless there was an absolute need. He did not want her to live in fear of anyone. 

So, Lucien came back. Renée was overjoyed and Lucien saw it. Every time he saw that joy on her face his stomach did that flip and it didn't get easier over time, on the contrary. He always appeared out of nowhere into the stables where she spent a lot of time.

When he had been gone for this long he found himself missing Renée and her easily read expressions, so the moment he saw her running towards him in joy he dropped his things, pulled her close and took her first kiss - and, well, to be honest, his too. But he was Lucien so he was never awkward. He did kissing perfectly fine like he had been doing it all his life.

She, however, felt awkward - it was her first kiss and she was a lady who had just been engaged to another man - but it was Lucien and she trusted Lucien, so she melted against him and his lips.

They only separated when they had to breath, and even then Lucien set his forehead against hers and breathed deeply with his eyes closed. He did not want to see her expression at this moment. 

If he had, he would've seen her looking at him with eyes filled with an emotion he wouldn't be able to read.

"Why would you do that?"

Her voice was breathless, and Lucien still couldn't look at her.

"I find you... interesting." He felt like this was explanation enough, but he didn't know how else he would express his thoughts. "With you, I feel things I don't feel with others. I want to see you again and again, even if I know it is unwise." Now he opened his eyes and detached himself from her. He turned, took his things and started to leave, when he was stopped by her hand barely touching his arm.

"I find you interesting too." Her voice had a light tremble in it, and if he was anyone else, he wouldn't have noticed it.

He went to leave, and she would have been heartbroken if he hadn't turned around to look at her and smile.

More years passed, and now Renée's parents were beginning to suspect her having feelings for a man she felt not good enough for them, so they confronted her. She denied everything, but admitted to have been meeting a man for years. She promised them nothing had happened (she lied a bit), but her parents still were not glad of this. They decided to send her away to her aunt who lived in Paris. 

The year was 1630. 

Renée did not have enough time to see him after her parents informed of the change, but left a letter into a place she knew only he would bother look into. Then, the moment her aunt wrote back to her parents she was gone.

The very same day Lucien came and snuck into the stables - he only came by at a time there would be no one but Renée. Sometimes he wondered if Renée did anything else but take care of her mare (she called her Poupée because of her pretty eyes), because every time he came by he met her in the stables.

She did, apparently. There was no one there, but left in a corner of the now empty Poupée's stall was a note. He picked it up and read what had happened and cursed her parents.

How would he able to go to Paris?

Quite easily, apparently. He kept on what he was doing - looting, learning about business - and soon he was known to be quite good when it came to money. He got a horse (well, "got" would be a wrong word. He practically stole it) and left his now quite regular followers to take care of his lodgings.

During these many years his wits, strength and quick thinking had impressed many a person, mostly bandits and other people of no law. He wasn't too thrilled at first, but realised the advantages of having someone to back him up and even made an infamous name for himself as a bandit leader.

When he reached Paris, he now only had to find out where would the lady live and thus find out where Renée would be.

Why would he do so much to be with a woman? He could not understand himself when it came to her. Always he found himself doing things for her, thinking of her and putting her first. If she found out he had killed her fiancé she would most likely kill him, but it was Renée, so he couldn't really know.

The fiancé was a bad man. Lucien had heard of the engagement and left to find out about the man and it did not take long to find him a regular customer of a whorehouse. And it could've been fine if Lucien hadn't found him beating a woman who hadn't satisfied him.

It didn't take a minute. Lucien made himself known to him once he left and in a dark alley, begging for his life the worm died when Lucien split his throat.

He would not risk Renée be hurt by her own husband.

Again, he surprised himself - he would never kill for anyone else but himself - but apparently he did. For her. And lately it seemed that everything he did, he had Renée in mind.

In Paris he happened to stumble into an inn where a certain gentleman was staying. He later could not remember much, but knew that he now was a pawn for a certain Filip Feron - the king's bastard brother. He found himself caring for Feron in some way, mainly because Feron had swiftly helped Lucien find Renée.

Madame Jolie, Renée's aunt, lived in a relatively large house not far from the market. Lucien felt like his chest would burst, for he knew Renée was close. He had to find a way to make her aware of him.

But when he saw her, she was with four men and a woman (he later found out that the four men were musketeers and the woman was a close friend of theirs). He hid in a shadow, was stealth itself. He always wore dark clothes and wore a hood when he wanted not to be seen. When he wanted, he wouldn't be.

One of the men was relentlessly flirting with her. He felt his blood boil and decided to find out everything he could about the man (he found that he was an exemplary man with a reputation of a womanizer, but he never mistreated them).

The worst thing was that she looked like she enjoyed herself with them. She had new friends.

She didn't need him.

For the second time in his life after being left alone in the world he felt like he didn't matter. His life crumbled within seconds when he thought of her future. In her future was no him. He was a phase. She didn't need him anymore. He had known her for years, but only now realised that he loved her, and it made his life turn from veins into dust when he understood that she couldn't love her, even if she did, which he couldn't know.

He had to retreat. She deserved more than him.

But as he loved her, he couldn't leave her alone straight away - he had to talk to her one last time.

When her friends left and she was alone he slipped from the shadows and joined her. He didn't know how when his face was hidden, but she recognised him immediately.

"Lucien!"

Her voice was filled with joy and she went on to hug him. He dodged this - they were in the middle of the street. He couldn't look like he knew her.

"Mademoiselle," he greeted her with no emotion and a bow.

She laughed in a confused manner. "Lucien, what is the matter? You know me, you don't ever call me mademoiselle anymore."

"I am no longer needed, mademoiselle. I came to say goodbye." His chest ripped apart when he said this and he could not look her way.

If he had, he would see her heart rip. "Whatever could you mean?"

"You needed a friend when we met. Now you live in Paris, and it's hard not to make friends here," he explained, then pulled her into an empty alley and into a small room against the wall. "I wanted to say goodbye, Renée. I had the best times of my life with you."

Renée became angry - but never as angry as Lucien could be. "I'm not one to use people and throw them away if I don't need them anymore. Lucien, you're my best friend, I'll always need you," she said, her voice losing the angry edge. Her hand rose to his cheek and he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the feel of her skin against his.

"You must understand, I'm doing this for your own good. It would not be found acceptable if they find out who you're dealing with." He lifted his hand to hers and wrapped his around it, pulling the hand from his face but keeping her hand in his. "I'll tell you something that must make you hate me. You have to hate me."

"I would never hate you," Renée fumed, angry again.

"I killed your fiancé."

For a second, she didn't move. Then she slowly took her hand from his. "I don't understand. Why would you do that?"

"It doesn't matter. I did it. I'm a murderer. I broke my promise." He stepped back. "Hate me, it will be easier to let me go."

Then he turned around and left the small room, stepping into the alley. Just when he was about to turn to leave it was well, she barely touched his arm.

He stopped. He'd always stop if she asked him.

"I would never hate you," she promised. "Just promise me you'll never hate me."

This was easy enough for him, and he smiled sadly. "Of course."

"Look at me, please." He request was silent, and of course he listened. When he was turned, Renée took his face to her hands and made him look at her while she said, "I love you."

He couldn't move. He loved her too much.

So she moved him, and suddenly they were kissing.

At first he couldn't move, still, but when he finally realised what was happening she tried to pull away, so in a panic he kissed her again and they continued kissing like they were the air they needed. His hands were on her hips and her hands were in his hair and suddenly her back was against a wall and they were closer and his arms wrapped around him and her hands pulled him closer -

He pulled away and left her breathless.

He closed his eyes again, like the first time they kissed, because he couldn't bring himself to see her emotions dance in her expressions. He barely audibly whispered the words back and then detached himself from her and left.

When she called to him he stopped again.

"I'll never love anyone but you."

It made him smile but he knew it was empty promises.

"If you ever need me," he said turning to almost face her, "send a little message to the lowest of the low, asking for Lucien Grimaud. I'll always find you."

Then he left. This time for real.

And she was left broken in an alley.


End file.
